The true face of life
by Dr. Betruger
Summary: A new breed of criminals comes to Middleton, men so twisted, so deadly not even Shego can beat them down. The whole city falles into darkness, as the most twisted and dangeres madmen of the world come to Middleton. This is a fight Kim won't survive.
1. Prologue Ed

The Lucifer

It was a stormy night in Brooklyn as the rain pored down from the heavens and the flashing roaring of thunder graced the skies.

Scared out of his mind, street thug was running for his life from an unseen threat. As he zigzagged threw the alleyways, he took a quick look behind him trying to spot his pressure. Suddenly his carelessness crushed him as he ran into something. The impact made him loose his balance and he fell on his back. He looked up and his blood ran cold when he saw who was there in front of him.

A dark, foreboding siluet stood there counseled by the blackness of the night and the heavy rain. The figure was a tall man wearing what seemed to be a large waist coat and high Goth boots. It was thin yet long-limbed in build while its face was hidden in darkness.

"What do you want from me, pleas don't hurt me" pleaded the thug in pure desperation, crawling backwards into the light of a nearby street lamp.

"What I want from you, you'll never willingly give" said the figure also stepping into the light. His face was twisted and pail. The look he gave the thug was a pure look of a mad man. His face was pail and hade black rings around its baggy eyes. His hair was thick, unkempt and greasy. It was dark brown and was culmed backwards with a curvy tuft in the middle of the forehead.

"It's strange" said the mysteries lunatic "These moments I treasure the most and at the same time I despise them".

"Are you gonna kill me?" asked the thug with fear in his voice.

The man looked at him for a moment with a pitiful look than chuckled, the chuckle turned to a soft laugh, the laugh turned into a hysterical one.

"I'm not going to kill you" said the man and paused. Seeing a glimpse of relief in the thug's face he continued "you killed you're self long time ago when took the path of a violent, merciless thug you are to this day".

Before the thug could say a word the madman swing his hand at him. Out of no were a small, 5 inch razor-sharp blade appeared on his index finger.

The blade slashed with grate ease the soft flesh of the thug's neck, spilling blood all over the ally way. The killers smiled to him self and withdraw into the darkness of the back streets.

"It was your fait all along, I know, I've seen what you've become".


	2. Prologue Jake

The Reaper

_White River National Forest was once a peaceful place. A summer camp known as "Sandstone Camp" was erected near the White River. Children and young adults were welcome to come and spend there summer in fun and also a learning experience. Well it was until something happen, something horrible. A young man willingly lost his life in the rapids and was lost forever in the White River. Years after the event the camp was closed due to bad roomers and court charges. People in the towns near by don't go to deep in the forest anymore, it is said that the spirit of that young man is still there and any one who trespasses his ground in the depths of the forest. Some people have seen a dark figure lurking in the shadows of the tree branches. All they could see is that it war an old black hooded jacket and that it carried a rusted scythe, that's way they called him "the Reaper". Normal people would say that all that were just stories to frighten your kids when the don't want to eat there green vegetables._

_Well stories or no stories, I say that there is something in the forest, that it's man of flesh and blood and I intend to find him and prove once for all that there is no such thing as vengeful ghosts._

_ Investigative journalist Harry Foster._

As the lat afternoon sun slowly set Harry finished his latest entry in his diary. He looked at his wrist watch and sighed. It was getting late, just another go around the hill and back to the motel. Harry placed his small diary in his back pack, zipped it up and continued walking threw the forest. It has bin two days since he came to the White River Forest in search of the "Reaper". The people tolled him that it was suicide but he was a man of rational thought and couldn't be frightened by mere superstition. As he went deeper and deeper into the woods it slowly started becoming misty. After wondering threw the now fogy woods he came across something unaccepted. In pilled up leaves he saw a small teddy bear. It looked old; it had numerous rips all over it and was missing its left arm and right leg.

Harry was a little confused. He started walking toward the small child's play-thing unaware that he was being watched by someone.

"How did you get here?" said Harry jokingly. He picked it up and examined it. Suddenly he heard a twig snap close behind him. He turned around and was greeted be a large fist in his face. The punch knocked him down and the Teddy bear fell out of his hand. He looked up and saw a massive figure run of into the mist. He quickly stud up, pulled out his pistol he got for such an occasion and ran in preset of the mysteries attacker completely forgetting his back pack which fell to the ground after that strike.

He ran as fast as he could but his target in front of him was faster. Harry was getting more and more tired as the figure in the mist in front of him slowly started disappearing in the fog. It seamed that his effort was futile. He stopped and collapsed to his knees from exhaustion. Filled with disappointment he gasped for air. He raised his head and could believe what he saw. The whole section of the woods he was in right now was covered with dead bodies of slaughtered men and women. He looked in horror around and felt like running, but the fear he was feeling immobilized him.

Suddenly out of the mists in front of him a large man stepped out. He was skinny yet tall. He war an old black jacket and torn jeans. On his hand he war a pair of fingerless leather gloves. Harry couldn't see his face because his entire head was wrapped in whit bandages. There was a small gap between the bandages over his left eye which was the only visible part of his face.

Harry watched frozen with fear as the Reaper raised his large scythe over his head with a glare of beastly rage in his eye. A small tear creped down Harry's cheek with despair.

"Leave me alone" muttered the Reaper in a deep voice and he swung his scythe. The blade sliced threw the flesh and bone like they were melted butter. After that the Reaper left the clearing leaving Harry's body and his head a few feet away from it.


End file.
